Down, Down, Down You Go
by Girlbender875
Summary: Obi-Wan is dead... so why is he on Mustafar with a group of Rebels and Imperials... and a very odd-acting Darth Vader? AU, rather angsty, no slash. R&R!


**Okaaaaay, this is very AU and very random. I hope it's not too confusing. I suddenly just got the idea for this story at half past midnight and I had to write it down before I forgot it. Then it suddenly blossomed into this one-shot that took me over three hours to write. Yes, it is past three thirty in the morning right now. *sighs* Well, enjoy!**

* * *

I wait for the moment to come. I close my eyes, sensing Luke's presence nearby. You are lusting for this moment; all your thought is bent upon it. You relish the split second of tension before swinging your powerful red blade towards me. I have mine raised in front of me in a passive position. I will myself to go. I focus all of my strength on it. It is my time. I have lived my life as far as it can go. In the end this is where it all comes to a close.

Many long years have been spent to protect this galaxy, though it was all for naught. I cannot help but relive my life one more time, just before it all disappears. I must feel these emotions once more; I must remind myself why I am doing this.

I know it's a Jedi principle to avoid melancholy and nostalgia, but I have long since abandoned this teaching. I have been spending twenty years unlearning it. And now, in one last sweep, I see my life flash in my mind. My humble beginning as a simple youngling who was eager to please and be the best Jedi he could be scrapes my heart. My long, hard, but wonderful years as a Padawan warm me, though in a bittersweet manner. My time as a Knight instructing the beautiful child who was always willing to learn more and do everything he could to save everyone is held close to my heart. Then my years as a Master remind me of all my failings, and in the end all that was left was my banishment to Tatooine, doomed to die when I finally resurfaced to help the galaxy one last time.

This is my final act. This is the final act of all Jedi. This is what we were born for. This was what we had lived and died for. This. Right here and now.

Because no matter how much my heart bleeds and cries for the precious boy who used to be there always smiling, arguing, pouting, crying, and loving, I am still a Jedi, and I will die to fight the darkness. I will continue to defend the galaxy even when it has turned its back on me.

I push all of these thoughts aside. I must focus on what is happening now. That must be the last lesson I remember. Focus. Do not let your mind wander from your task.

I focus. And then I vanish into nothingness, just as your blade hums and begins to burn my side.

A blissful numbness envelopes me, and my mind goes blank. I do not care for where I am or how much time has passed; time does not seem to matter anymore.

I know what time passes in the realm in which I used to dwell, for I watch many things and rarely interact with the one person who could—who _would_—hear my voice. I cannot say what time passed where I existed, though; I could not tell if years passed or seconds. What I can say, though is that somewhere in the interminable void of space and time, I suddenly found myself doing an act I never thought I would do again.

My chest burns as my lungs suddenly inhale a terrible dry heat. Something scratches them. My eyes tear up as they are immediately dried as if a flame has been lit directly in front of them. My entire body grows itchy and hot before a thin layer of sweat begins to coat my skin. The scratchy material of my Jedi robes clings to me.

Belatedly, I register my surroundings. Everything is stained red, orange, and black. A dark substance floats lazily but ominously in the air. I smell it, and I taste it as it enters my mouth unwillingly. It is burnt and crispy, and the taste is abhorrent. The substance melts in my mouth, and whatever survives that much is unfortunate enough to enter my lungs and scratch them further. I cough harshly.

I have no need to ask where I am. I have no need to even consider the question. I do not even require a memory. This place has been burned into my very soul ever since I stepped foot on its soil.

What I _don't_ remember seeing before was the group of stunned people staring at the surroundings before turning their eyes to me.

I see young Luke's gaze first. He gawks at me in utter amazement and bewilderment. Behind him is the former-smuggler-administrator-turned-Rebel Lando Calrissian. A handful of Rebels stand behind them, just as disoriented as they.

The more interesting group suddenly catches my attention to the first group's left. They wear Imperial uniforms and all serve in Death Squadron, namely the _Executor_.

We watch each other in silence and finally recognition seems to dawn on everyone's faces. Luke recognizes me first, sensing my familiar presence and seeing tendencies that never changed, such as my posture, and my gentle half-smile.

"Ben? But that's impossible; you're _dead_," Luke shakes his head in abject shock and disbelief.

I look Luke over. He looks so much like his father. Disturbingly, he has even taken to his father's tendency to wear black, right down to the black glove that snugly covers his damaged prosthetic hand. His new lightsaber hangs on his belt, mirroring my own design.

Luke takes a step towards me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I simply shake my head, finally offering a response. "I'm afraid I am at a loss just as you are."

Despite my slight panic at this situation, I manage to keep my voice steady and calm, a habit that I have perfected over the long years of my life.

But how am I even alive again? Why am I _here_ of all the accursed places in the galaxy? And how in the _blazes_ did _they_ find themselves here as well?

These questions require answers, but standing about will not acquire them for me. I sigh and shake my head once more before facing the group as a whole. "I cannot explain how we all arrived here, but we cannot linger. This is a dangerous place, and Force only knows what or who could be waiting for us."

The Imperials finally seem to get their wits about them and immediately draw their weapons. The Rebels quickly retaliate. I sigh again, even heavier than before.

"It will do us no good to fight at a time like this," I say. Luke, who has been finger his lightsaber tightly, silently agrees and relinquishes his grip. Everyone else does not seem to share the same opinion.

While Luke tries to convince his fellow Rebels to stand down, I turn my attention to the Imperials, who quickly notice that Luke is not the only one armed with a Jedi weapon. To add to the intensity, many of them, who are certainly old enough to know about the Clone Wars, recognize me as one of the most "dangerous" and certainly the most wanted Jedi known to the Empire.

"That's impossible," a man with an admiral's insignia on his uniform mutters. "Lord Vader _killed_ you."

The sound of your name makes me shudder, though I make sure it is too subtle for their untrained eyes to notice. Luke is thankfully too busy with the Rebels to pay me any mind. "Technically, you are correct, admiral. However, that does not change our current predicament."

The Imperial seems too stunned to try anything on me, so I take advantage of the moment and obtain Luke's attention. "We must go now."

Luke nods and leads the Rebels, who follow grudgingly all the while eying the Imperials suspiciously. The Imperials return the favor, keeping at least three leaps' distance between them and the Rebel group. I walk alongside Luke.

"Where are we? How did we get here?" a Rebel asks no one in particular.

"This is a small planet called Mustafar. It was a Separatist stronghold during the Clone Wars… I know it all too well."

My cryptic last remark will probably prompt someone to ask how I know Mustafar so well, but thankfully everyone seems too concerned with the situation to care. I find myself in a similar state of mind.

My memory of this place is surrounding the incident that occurred here, and so I have little memory of the actual layout. However, my mind does serve me well enough to guide the odd procession to an indoor area.

As soon as the door hisses open, concealing itself in the ceiling, I know my memory served me all too well.

The horrid stink of rotting flesh fills my nostrils, prompting me to cough and gag along with the rest of the party. My eyes water at the odor and I begin to make out shapes of corpses littering the floor.

"What happened here?" an Imperial asks as he coughs into his sleeve.

I cannot answer him. This situation is making less and less sense. Not only am I alive, and Rebels and Imperials mysteriously appear with me on a planet that was pivotal in my life, but the corpses of your early kills are still scattered on the floor. Surely they would have been cleaned or at least mostly rotted by now. Instead, the smell is fresh, and I distinctly see the bodies in perfect condition. Their deaths were recent, and the stench is only magnified due to the heat.

The next sight stops my heart for an instant, and I realize I am out of breath because I forgot to breathe.

There you are, sitting with your knees drawn into your chest. You are almost lounging it seems as the glow of the large holoprojector on which you sit gives you a rigid shape. You are sitting in profile to us and barely blink a moment before slowly tracing your eyes across the room until they settle, demonic red, upon me.

You watch us for a moment and all is silent and still. No one recognizes you. No one would possibly know you as Darth Vader from your appearance. Your strong shoulders are tight as knots and your smooth face is covered in a film of sweat. Your layered, wavy long hair is stuck to your face and soaking wet. You look just like my former Padawan, my beautiful boy, except for your eyes, and for that very reason, no one associates you with Anakin Skywalker.

Not even Luke.

The silence stretches until it is finally broken by an Imperial. He raises his blaster and says in a steady voice, "Identify yourself."

_Identify yourself!_ I can see the words repeating in your mind as you mock the Imperial. Your jaw moves slightly as you taste the words in your mouth and then you suddenly stand so abruptly even I jump. You tower over all of us standing upon the large hexagonal holoprojector. You look like a king over a dead people as the corpses decorate the floor.

You notice everyone's gaze occasionally flickering towards the floor and you smile a cruel smile. Something flashes in your eyes, and they harden, becoming sinister and sadistic. "Do you like my decorations?"

Even the Imperials recoil at your comment, and I find myself too surprised to say anything. Your behavior is so odd; I would have expected you to be at least disconcerted by the new environment and by your sudden freedom from your life-supporting suit.

The only rationalizing I can conjure is that you are simply being hysterical. You do not believe what is happening and simply think you are going mad. I must admit I would believe the same thing if I were in your position.

And that is a very big _if_.

You gesture around the room and then laugh. Your laugh is not cruel, but it is not mirthful, either. It is an empty laugh, though it holds a touch of disbelief in it. You then hop off the table, landing with a squish upon a dead Geonosian. I feel my stomach churn at the sight and sound of it.

"Come to your senses, Darth," I finally manage to say. You will be of no use to yourself or any of us if you continue to act this way. While my voice sounds strong and stern, I feel none of these things. I am still confused and disoriented as well, and I am barely registering this all at once. If it weren't for my years of training and running into the most unheard of things in the galaxy, I would be as silent as the rest of the party.

Luke jumps at my use of address. He then turns shocked eyes to you. "No… you _can't _be…"

"Lord Vader?" the Imperial admiral asks, and his voice colored so thoroughly with disbelief it sounds as if even saying it is ludicrous.

Everyone in the room stiffens, except for you. You simply smile a twisted smile and walk calmly to another door, which opens as you draw near it. You then walk into the hallway beyond it and the door closes with a hiss behind you.

The room is left stunned speechless. Even I find that I cannot speak. I can imagine your cruel amusement at the prospect of striking The Negotiator dumb.

However, my shock does not linger as I try desperately to focus my mind once more. Luke and others who are well trained do so as well.

"We have to find a way out of here," a Rebel lieutenant says.

"No, we need to figure out how we even _got_ here," Luke corrects.

"But what about Vader?" Lando quickly interrupts, and even an Imperial grunts in agreement.

I find myself unwillingly staring at the door which you exited. Luke follows my gaze, along with most of the occupants in the room. The Imperials then walk purposefully towards the door, ignoring us entirely.

I run after them, but they pull their weapons on me.

"Don't move, Jedi," the admiral threatens.

Sighing in exasperation, I hold out my hand and make a waving motion to the side, flinging the Imperials across the room and knocking their weapons out of their hands. Before the Rebels can react, I tell Luke to assure that no fighting ensues, and then I run for the door.

The heat returns with a blast as the hallway leads outside. I look and find you standing at the edge of the railing, a hand on a support bar as you watch the lava below. The Rebels and Imperials quickly follow me and freeze in place upon catching sight of you.

The admiral then strides towards you, leading his men. "Lord Vader, let us kill these Rebels and leave immediately."

You pay the admiral no mind and continue your odd vigil. The admiral attempts to speak with you again, but you cut him off, not even addressing him, but addressing me.

"Do you remember this place?"

I stare you uncomprehendingly. Why are you doing this? We need to find out what is happening.

As my mind thinks this, a feeling begins to well inside me. Somehow I know that dealing with your own problems is more important than finding a way off. Somehow I get the feeling that taking care of you first will allow everything else to solve itself.

Although it is an odd feeling, I know to trust it. Still, I haven't done anything to help you in decades… I don't see how it will make a difference now. You don't accept help from a Jedi. You're a Lord of the Sith. Nevertheless, I answer you. "I have never forgotten it, Vader."

You turn your head slightly at the sound of your name, and then suddenly a deranged grin blossoms and you laugh like a maniac and face me fully. "Look at you, Obi-Wan. You're the perfect little Jedi pet."

I raise an eyebrow, not knowing where this behavior is coming from. Your comment does not need a response and is certainly not worth one, so I remain silent. Your laughter fades, and your smile changes shape. It is now lazy and yet sinister, hiding darkness and danger so terrifying the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

You walk towards the Imperials. "You want to kill the Rebels?"

"Sir?" the admiral gives you a bewildered look. "It is not even a matter of desire; it's a necessity!"

You give an amused snort, though there is no mirth in it. "Everyone plays a role here. You're all good little actors and actresses, you know that? Everyone hides something."

You then turn your gaze to me and return to your original position, looking out at the lava. No one understands your words or logic, and they certainly do not understand your behavior. I am not entirely sure what to say or where to start, and I don't even know what I'm trying to do. I just know that I need to do _something_.

Before I can speak, you begin to talk again, though you are still facing away from everyone. "Down, down, down you go… you fall deeper and deeper until there is no saving you."

I raise an eyebrow, now completely baffled. You are obviously not in your right mind, though I can barely imagine that being a Sith Lord would require being in one's right mind anyway.

As my mind processes these thoughts, I belatedly realize that you were looking at the _lava_ when you spoke those words.

I begin to panic, taking a step towards you. "Wait, Vader, don't—"

"Don't what?" You unexpectedly turn to face me, your face neutral. Then the odd grin returns and you walk slowly without purpose towards the Imperials. "Look, Obi-Wan; we all go down. No one here is who they pretend to be. We all go down. No one looks out for each other."

You then begin to pace, weaving in and out of different Imperials. You stop in front of the admiral. "Adm. Piett speaks lies and places the blame of his mistakes on others."

As the admiral stares at you in shock and horror because your knowledge surpasses what he expected, your gaze moves to another Imperial. "Lt Cdr. Chupa-Pau here is having an affair with so many women that I cannot even keep count. And don't look so horrified, dear man; I do not even have to follow you around to see it."

As the lieutenant commander's expression mirrors the admiral's, you turn to your next victim, a lieutenant. "Lt. Biakna killed his brother to take his place of power in the navy."

You continue to name every Imperial in the small group and point out horrid offenses on each of them. You laugh then, a hopeless laugh that sends chills through my body. "Don't you all see? You're the perfect Imperials; rotten to the core. It is what you were bred to be. You all serve your emperor and work your ambitious little ways up the ladder of power and prestige until you eliminate all in your path. Everyone hates and fears you. But do not concern yourselves with it; I'm just like you in that regard."

A touch of sadness appears in your eyes, but only for an instant. You then turn your attention to the Rebels. "And here are our liberators. Look at them, the filth!"

Your face darkens and a sinister smirk chases the ghostly smile away. "Many of these people fight for the freedom to kill, steal, and sell. They choose to defeat the Empire so they can do whatever they will without any risk of being arrested and brought to justice. Others simply join to seek adventure; they seem to think killing is fun."

And then, finally, you look at me. "And then we have our perfect Jedi. Don't you see? Jedi are useless. They lie and claim they are fighting for peace in a galaxy where peace cannot exist. Everyone looks out for themselves and only themselves. No one cares for each other. _It took me twenty-two years to learn that!_"

Your cold dark look suddenly emblazons to a fiery rage and hatred I have not sensed in you since our duel on this world. As soon as the words are bellowed, your anger and hatred dissipates and boils down to a simmer and you walk away.

No one says a word. Everyone is frozen in position, all looking panicked, horrified, or bewildered beyond all comprehension. Even I do not move for a moment before I walk to the edge and see you descending to lower levels. The sight of it makes me uneasy somehow, and so I rush to reach you, snapping the others into reality and causing them to follow me. However, the winding passages begin to confuse us all. My senses lead me to you, and Luke is not far behind me, but the others are hopelessly lost and simply settle for watching me run to you from a balcony.

The next time I see you, you are balancing on one of the rods on which we stood and fought. You are contemplating the lava once again.

"Vader, come over here," I say, trying to sound authoritative.

Never before have I concerned myself with your well-being after I said Anakin Skywalker was dead. For you are not him. You are Darth Vader, and you must die. I am suddenly frightened and confused by my change of heart. Worry fills me as I watch you balance precariously on the rod, and somehow the lava you are watching seems to be beckoning you, bringing something more sinister than death.

"Down, down, down you go… into the darkness and into the cold." You mutter. I cannot possibly see how lava is even remotely associated with cold and darkness, but your words frighten me.

"Vader, come here," I repeat slowly, trying to get your attention.

You abruptly turn to face me again, twisting so sharply the beam beneath you shakes and bounces. I stiffen, nearly running and grabbing you, but I stop myself, still unsure of whether I should even be trying to help you or not.

"Do you remember?" you ask again.

I don't understand why you keep asking, but I answer anyway. "Yes, Darth Vader, I remember."

"No you don't!" You suddenly roar in a rage and then your voice grows so quiet I have to lean forward to hear you over the raging lava. "You feel the heat singeing your clothes and your skin. The heat is so dry and so terrible that you feel your skin cracking and flaking. You clutch at the black earth and try to clamber up but it only makes you fall further. Then the lava licks you and you feel it. It leaps up to you and grabs your leg, and knives pierce every nerve in your body, _ripping shredding tearing and it won't __**stop**__!_"

Pain erupts in me as my vision is blurred by a black boot making contact. I groan and fall to the ground, feeling my nose aching and feeling as if it is out of place, moved painfully to the side. Blood trickles down my face from the injury, but you do not even notice. By then you have lost interest and begin to walk away once more.

I don't know which scares me more; your mood swings or your words. I just know now that I cannot let this continue.

I leap to my feet, but you have already descended another level by then. I follow you and call out to you.

"Vader, stop!"

You're muttering to yourself again, and I can just barely make out the words: "Down, down, down you go… let it consume you, eat you alive, never feel again. The dark is kind; it hides you from the piercing blinding light. The dark is kind; it cools you from the horrid heat. The dark is kind; it brings peace and rest. Down, down, down you go…"

"Vader, listen to me!"

Your walk never stops and you make it all the way to the bottom of the facility. I rush towards you in a panic and grab your hand. You turn and look at me, your red eyes flashing in a warning. "Let me go."

"Vader, you need to come away from the lava," I tell you firmly. "Let's get back to the top. You can see Luke there."

You blink and then roughly force your wrist out of my grip. "Luke is going down too… you all are… let _go_… _let me go!_"

You kick me squarely in the gut and I fall back again. Your walk takes you ever closer to the lava. "Vader, no!"

"Father, come back here!"

Luke has finally reached the area, but you pay him no mind. You continue your slow trek to the lava.

Luke and I both rush towards you, but I am the better trained of the two and tell Luke to wait as I retrieve you. Luke complies reluctantly, but still calls to you. You do not answer.

"Down, down, down you go… back to the pit from whence you came…" you suddenly laugh and look at me. "I think that's how it goes. It's from a story so long ago about a demon."

"Vader—"

"_**NO!"**_

Your scream startles me and Luke. We both flinch and take a step back. Your face is contorted in rage and pain. You take another step towards the lava and then look back at me and for a moment your eyes a deep shade of blue. They plead with me. "Say it."

I see Anakin Skywalker in those eyes… but you are not him! He died…

Your tone grows desperate. _"Say it."_

"What do you want me to say?" I ask, and a hope I thought never existed began to kindle inside me. Was my boy really in there? I would say anything to help him.

A tear traces its way down your cheek. Your whisper is not heard over the lava, but I can read your lips: _Say it._

What do you want me to say? I voice this question again but you don't answer me.

You turn and walk towards the lava again.

"Stop, Vader!" I yell desperately, but this only seems to worsen it.

You give a cry of grief and hatred. "STOP! You Jedi and your filthy lies! You're nothing! You speak of redemption, you speak of light but you are nothing but liars! You don't accept the truth, Obi-Wan! _You don't accept the truth! _You even lied to my son! _SAY IT!_"

"All right, I lied to Luke about you!" I quickly say to appease you. It is the truth, after all. "I could not bear the thought of it! I had been living with that guilt for twenty years, Vader!"

You shake your head violently and turn away, and then it finally dawns upon me. I stare at you, knowing that if I did say it, I would be admitting to myself for the first time who you truly are.

You're almost at the same spot where you burst into flame all those years ago.

_Down, down, down you go… back to the pit from whence you came._

"No…" I mutter weakly. I cannot say it. I cannot say it!

You're almost there… any closer and you'll burn…

"_Anakin!"_

The cry leaves my lips before I even realize it. It is simply automatic. I haven't addressed you as that since our last visit here. I never expected to address you that way again. You were lost in my mind. You were dead.

But you're _not_. You've been trying to tell me this whole time, between your insane words and despairing comments, you've been trying to _tell _me.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, a chuckle escapes as I look at Luke. That boy was right, after all.

My attention quickly returns to you, though, all other thoughts lost. You have finally paused and are slowly attempting to look at me. Your eyes are a beautiful blue once more, but they are unsure and afraid. You are still hesitant.

"You're Anakin Skywalker," I say firmly. "My former Padawan. You're the Chosen One. You're the most amazing Jedi Knight I have ever met. You're my brother. You're my son. You're my friend. Anakin, come here. Come to me."

These words unlock something in you, and you slowly face me.

But you are too close to the lava.

Your slight shift in weight moves the gravel too close and you fall.

"_NO!"_

Luke and I scream at the same time and run towards you. Everything slows and I can only hear the echo of your cry as the heat begins to consume you. Tears blur my vision, but I still grab your arm and the heat begins to overwhelm me as well. Luke is holding your other arm and we catch you, dragging you up the hill.

When we reach the top, I cradle you in my arms and Luke holds your hand reassuringly. Your eyes are closed, but your quick breathing is beginning to slow. Eventually you open your eyes. They first rest on Luke, and you squeeze his hand. Then, you timidly turn your gaze towards me.

"Hello, Anakin," I say with the most genuine smile I have ever given since before the Clone Wars.

You close your eyes slowly and release your grip on Luke for a moment to throw your arms around me and shudder. I hold you close, running a hand through your soot infested hair. I never thought I would look at your eyes again. I don't know what miracle brought us all here on Mustafar, but I am thankful for it… far more than you will ever know.

"Master, I'm…" you try to say but you hiccup as all of your emotions pour out of you at once. I soothe you and then release you, motioning to Luke. You immediately latch onto him and kiss him on the head.

"You were right about me," you whisper weakly, your voice thick with tears.

Luke's smile could not have been happier, and his eyes sparkle just as yours do. He got your eyes, you know. It was so painful for me to look at them in the beginning, but now they are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. You and Luke laugh and hug each other tightly before you look back to me, your smiling failing as insecurity takes hold of you.

"Obi-Wan…" you don't know what to say.

I caress your face gently and kiss you on the forehead. "Shh, be still, Anakin. Let's find a way out of here, shall we?"

It is then that you smile and hug me. "We will never be apart again, Master, right?"

I laugh. "I will never leave you again, Anakin."

As I say this, Mustafar disappears around me. Startled, I pull away from Anakin to see what is happening, but Anakin is frightened by the gesture and he seems completely oblivious to the change in surroundings. In the distance, echoing in a muffled fashion as if from far away and underwater at the same time, I hear alarms blaring. I see the Death Star materialize around me.

Luke stares at me. "What is _happening_? Where are the others? How did we get to the Death Star?"

I am about to answer Luke when I suddenly see Luke… but… no, wait; there are _two _Lukes! One Luke looks serious and is concentrating hard, studying a tall masked figure before him. I immediately recognize him as… _no!_ I stare at you in horror, but I find you burying your face in my chest trying to muffle out the sound of the harsh breathing.

Now I'm completely at a loss.

You moan, clutching my robes tightly. I pat your back reassuringly but can do nothing else, for I am too preoccupied trying to figure out what in the _blazes_ is happening.

Then Luke and I sense it at the same time. We can almost see it in our minds, watching as Lando pilots the _Millennium Falcon_ into the Death Star and destroys the core.

But he doesn't get out in time. Neither do Luke, or you.

The Death Star explodes. We are in the dark. Luke watches with dawning comprehension, and then I realize it too. I was never alive again. It was simply that everyone else _died_.

Then your words come to my mind, and I remember.

_Down, down, down you go… you fall deeper and deeper until there is no saving you.  
Once it is done there is no return.  
You cannot go back; that you must learn.  
The choice is yours and yours alone.  
In the darkness you are on your own.  
For the dark is cold and only for you._

_Down, down, down you go… into the darkness and into the cold.  
It eats you and consumes you from the inside.  
There is nowhere for you to hide.  
You believe you are doing right as you destroy.  
Hunting and killing you begin to enjoy.  
You know no love, no hope, and no light._

_Down, down, down you go… let it consume you, eat you alive, never feel again.  
They feed you lies in your sleep.  
In the darkness you must keep.  
The dark is kind; it hides you from the piercing blinding light.  
The dark is kind; it cools you from the horrid heat.  
The dark is kind; it brings peace and rest._

_Down, down, down you go… back to the pit from whence you came.  
There is no turning back  
And then you fall through the crack,  
And the Darkness will swallow you.  
You will allow its slumber to take you hence,  
Until you are alone in the still silence.  
And realize your hideous mistake.  
One that you cannot unmake. _

_Down, down, down you go… back to the pit from whence you came.  
You have nothing; not even a name.  
You will not be recalled in lore,  
For your spirit has died long before,  
They can even recall you._

_Burn in the cold darkness, foolish demon. Down, down, down you go…_

I read that book to you so many years ago. You must have been eleven or twelve at the time. It was a book full of heavy reading on the ways of the Jedi and the Sith, and there were tales, songs, and all sorts of lore from thousands of years in the past. You loved listening to the tales, and poems in the book helped to simplify the meanings for you. This one in particularly stuck with you because you did not understand how someone could burn in cold darkness. I recall now that you said the demon was foolish and should have never chosen to go the dark. I recall now that you said you would never be that foolish.

And I had laughed and said that was probably true.

Now I look at you as you hug me tightly and the world around us warms. We see Lando and the other Rebels and Imperials, who also seem to finally have realized that there is no going back to the battle.

"Leia…" Luke mutters in concern.

I smile at him. "We can go see her, if you wish."

Luke seems to finally recall that I could visit him beyond the grave. Though it will not last forever, it should be good enough to at least say good-bye. Lando joins Luke, asking if he can haunt Han for the rest of his days, causing Luke to laugh. I simply take another look at you and plant a reassuring kiss on your head. You smile shyly and then we both stand.

I lead you and Luke towards a celebration off in the distance where we can vaguely make out Ewoks and Rebels dancing in the trees. You smile, knowing there won't be any more pain.

I smile in return, knowing that this time I _can_ keep my promise; I will never let any harm come to you again.

* * *

**lol, poetry at three in the morning tends to be a bit... dysfunctional. Hehe. Well, I would greatly appreciate feedback that way I know whether to simply kill the plot bunnies that arrive after midnight or whether it's not a bad idea to share them. Reviews, please! :-)**


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